Prisoners of the Red String of Fate
by SpidERSpins
Summary: The Red String of Fate cannot be broken. Try and sever it, and it will make you its prisoner. Royai. Oneshot.


Author Note: Huzzah! I got this idea a while ago, but because school likes to pile on the homework, I didn't have much time to write this. Actually, I still have a lot of work to do, so I really shouldn't be writing this… Oh well!! While writing this, I got a couple more ideas for fanfics – one of them NOT A ONESHOT (Surprise!) that is about Roy and Riza in their youth. Ack! I know, I know. There are so many of them roaming around, so I am wondering if I should actually write it. What do you reviewers think? I think it is a bit different then usual, because it is about Roy and Riza before they even meet, but still works out as Royai… So if you review tell me your thoughts on it!! Well, then… Please enjoy this fic!!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or the Red String of Fate.

From an early age, Roy Mustang had the mind of an alchemist. While his classmates delighted in the thrill of telling ghost stories, Roy had analyzed the tales realistically, and attempted to rationalize with his friends, and in the end telling them their stories were a load of bullocks. He lost a lot of popularity after that.

Even religion seemed like a fairytale to him, and he never attended church once he got old enough to stay behind in the brothel he lived in. For Roy Mustang, everything could be explained through science and reason. Everything else was only human imagination gone much too far. Until one day in literature class.

He was ten years old and as reasonable as always, sitting restlessly in a crowded class for the poverty-stricken or the children of whores, and central had many. They were learning Xingese literature at the time, and as the only kid with an ounce of Xingese blood in him, the teacher tended to ask him if he knew anything special about events in the story. Roy didn't have his Xingese mother around to tell him these things, not to mention having no interest in Xing culture. He might have looked Xingese, but he was Amestrian through and through, and thus he had nothing special to add, to the disappointment of his teacher.

However, upon learning about the Red String of Fate, Roy suddenly found himself enchanted by the silly fairytale-like notion of two people, strung together by an unbreakable thread, destined to meet and love each other regardless of the time, place, and circumstance.

Perhaps it was the romantic within him, having grown up with a hoard of unrelated women who dreamed of a knight in shining armor coming to sweep them away from their troubles, which had him so interested. Or possibly he was finally getting interested in Xingese beliefs.

Or maybe, he simply knew that his red string of fate was attached to someone particularly special, someone made only for him, someone who was watching and waiting for him to come and be with them. He didn't yet know her name, how she looked, her smile, her voice. He didn't even know where he could find her, or even if she was actually a she. He loved her all the same; the dear girl who he dreamed was on the other side of his string. And only three short – or perhaps long, for he waited with much impatience to find her – years he found her.

He hadn't even been looking for her at that time, he'd only been looking for the alchemy teacher who could lead him to greatness, and then he met her. Probably only eight years old, she had to be five years younger, making him a bit of a cradle robber for loving her to this extent so soon, but he was filled with tender loving feelings anyways, and was quickly devoted to her.

She had short hair, but the short wisps of hair made her seem elegant, rather then boyish. The girl wore simple clothes, all slightly too small and too worn, but to Roy they were clothes fit for a queen, at least on her. She hadn't yet smiled or spoken to him, but he knew her name was Riza Hawkeye, the daughter of his alchemy teacher. Everything about her was perfect, but those things weren't what convinced him she was his fated one, his destiny.

It was her eyes that captivated him, taking him under her spell. There was something, within the depths of her eyes, which held something that told him she had suffered and had been hurt and betrayed in the past, that she knew the world wasn't something pure, as he himself had learned. But still, there was innocence in her eyes, childish innocence that told him she still hoped, something that Roy shared, unknowingly, with her. Her eyes were of an extraordinary color, not quite amber or brown or red or gold – they were the color of warm syrup and he felt himself drowning in the sweet pain and innocence within them.

He took her hand with his, and knelt as he brushed his lips upon her knuckles, and brushed his thumb across her ring finger, where the invisible red string was said to be tied.

"It is an honor to meet you, Riza Hawkeye," he said glancing up and meeting her naive eyes with his own obsidian eyes, filled with childlike devotion.

"My name is Roy Mustang." '_And I promise to love and protect forever_' his eyes silently told her.

"I hope we can be… good friends." He said as stood back up, and she took her hand back. She stared at him, neither with disgust at his gentlemanly display of affection nor with loving delight. Riza watched him, confused, as though she didn't quite know what to make of him and his obvious fondness for her. She was too young for that, and too unused to being loved for that, Roy decided. But she would learn, one day, to love him as much as he did her, of that he was certain, and he would wait forever for that day to come.

Unfortunately he found himself leaving only a year and a half later, upon the realization that he wanted her to have the best life as soon as possible with him and that he had absolutely nothing to give her. He joined the military, though he wished he could have entered as a state alchemist, but Riza's father said he wasn't quite ready for his secrets yet, and Roy wanted to reach the top as soon as he could for Riza. For now, an enlisted soldier would do.

Still, despite his need to give Riza everything, he also had a desire to see and be near her too, and found himself back at his old teacher's house for a visit. Before he even had a chance to see Riza, though, her father died. Now that Riza had no one but him, he had to work fast. He had to do everything within his power to give Riza the best life possible and he had to make the Amestris beautiful, for her. He had to reach the top. And for that, he needed her father's secrets. But he never wanted to receive them the way he did.

A tattoo, a large one, was etched into her small back. He knew it must have hurt her to have the needle pierce her small back, and to have the betrayal of her father pierce her heart at the same time. It was his fault, and Roy knew it.

He never should have left her alone with her father, even for the half year that he had. She was only ten years old, the same age that he had started looking for her. He had promised to protect and love her forever, and now she was more broken then ever. He was only lucky her father hadn't hurt her any more then this, but still Roy couldn't stay with her, not anymore. He would only hurt her more, staying near her. He would continue his dream, of course, and make their country a beautiful one, one that Riza deserved to live in.

He would continue to protect her from afar, of course, but he could never again let himself be drawn to her side. She would only be hurt again and again as he got closer to the top, if she was there beside him. Unbreakable or not, he had to server the Red String of Fate that had brought him to her. But the Red String of Fate was truly indestructible, as he would discover and would come back with a vengeance.

He thought he had succeeded in breaking the string, eight years later, while in Ishbal, using the secrets she trusted him to protect the people with. Instead he was killing with them. She would surely hate him for it, and for once he was glad he could never again see her.

Then he saw her, out among the other soldiers. She was a murderer, it showed in her eyes, but still innocent and full of pain. They now showed the pain of his betrayal of his use of her father's secret – of her secret – to kill so many.

As terrible as the Ishbal War was, and as guilty as he was for killing as many as he had, the only time Roy Mustang ever wanted to truly kill himself was seeing her killing eyes filled not with hate, but love – a love betrayed. She had learned to love him now, a love that rivaled his own, and the Red String of Fate had led her here, in the midst of war and blood and death, to him.

He'd always been grateful that the Red String had brought him to Riza, but he couldn't forgive it for bringing her here, tainting her remaining purity with more blood. What use was the Red String if he couldn't break it to protect her, and instead took her to this bloodstained battlefield?

By war's end, Red String of Fate wasn't just a string. It was two red rings of iron that bound their fingers together like handcuffs for the fingers.

When Riza had him burn her back, to destroy the chances of another Flame Alchemist existing, he found that not just their fingers were bound, but their wrists were shackled too. He tried to run from her again, to central command and be becoming a Lieutenant Colonel and getting closer to the top. Yet again, though, the Red String brought her to him again, this time as his aide. Each day that passed, from then on, made her more and more his prisoner.

The Red String – no – the Red Chain of fate grew stronger and stronger and lost links in the chains day by day, until there was nothing left of him and her but chains that fettered them together. Their wrists, legs, ankles, necks, lips, everything was bound together, even their hearts.

He found his back facing her back, and that he cannot turn to look at her anymore, the shackles won't allow him that privilege. He is a prisoner as much as she is, and this is his punishment for trying to run from his Fate. Though she is so close to him, the Red Chain won't let him touch her anymore, and if he tries, fate threatens to hurt her, holds her dangling above the depths of Hell.

He might have found her, the girl on the other side of his Red String of Fate, but he was forbidden from loving her now, else she might get hurt. He was her prisoner, and she was his. Together, they were the Prisoners of the Red String of Fate, bound together forever. They will never be apart.

Author Note: Wow… That sucked, didn't it? So sappy and everything… Well I hope it was enjoyable for you to read. Thank you for reading. If it isn't troubling, please review, even constructive criticism is welcomed. Also, I think I might try and reply to some the reviews, so I hope that is okay!! I hope to be writing again soon! Now to do a butt load of homework…


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